


Unbalance

by Starfuckking (ShiningNebula)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Matt, Omega Shiro, domestic fluff and other cutesy bullshit, eventually, just spaceships and buttsex, shiro's body hates him, there's no voltron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-02-14 20:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13015974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiningNebula/pseuds/Starfuckking
Summary: From the day he first presented at 15, Shiro had never had an irregular heat.Until now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Brought over from tumblr thanks to the lovely folks on Discord. I finally decided on a title after 8 billion years of working on this AU. Thank you all for your encouragement and mutual love for omega shiro.

From the day he first presented at 15, Shiro had never had an irregular heat. In seven years he'd never skipped a heat, never had problems with his suppressants, never had an abnormal cycle. In fact, his cycles were as regular and predictable as the cycles of the moon itself! He took great care to track his heats and keep up with suppressants and scent blockers, and was even tasked with speaking to incoming freshmen about the importance of keeping track of one's personal reproductive cycles. Having been regular for all those years, Shiro didn't think anything of it when he started feeling a bit warm one morning while preparing for classes. He'd been under a lot of strain staying at the top of his class, even in the Garrison's advanced programs, and simply assumed that he'd caught something from another student. He took a few tylenol as a precaution and went to class as usual, determined not to let something as simple as a cold or mild virus throw off his perfect attendance record. After several hours of lectures and two tests he admitted he was feeling worse than ever. It was so hot, he could barely focus on the notes he was supposed to be taking. His head felt fuzzy, and the ringing in his ears was all but drowning out the professor. It wasn't until his name was called for the third time that he registered that the professor was speaking to him.  
"Mister Shirogane, are you feeling alright? You're looking quite flushed." She repeated. Shiro tried to shake off the daze with a mumbled assurance that he was fine. He glanced at the flight trajectory question on the board and his brain sluggishly tried to process the information for an answer, but when he stood to approach the board the room spun and his legs gave out, prompting worried gasps from the other pilots. The girl seated next to him was able to catch him before he collapsed completely, ending up with his head slumped over her shoulder and her nose pressed into the crook of his neck. Her eyes widened in shock as her nose told her all she needed to know.  
"Professor!" She cried, "He's in heat!"  
Immediately the professor gestured to two of the betas in the front row. They looked like they might be strong enough to carry Shiro to the heat wing if needed. The girl who had caught him, a mated alpha, offered to go with them, thinking that an alpha's presence might help him stay calm. Shiro grunted in discomfort as the betas each slung one of his arms over their shoulders and pulled him to his feet, all but dragging him from the room, the alpha following with a gentle hand pressed between his shoulderblades. Shiro was trying to process what was happening, but all he knew was that it was too damn hot and there were way too many people touching him. Why were so many people touching him? He didn't like it. And was that an alpha? He sniffed, trying to place the scent. An alpha was touching him. An alpha that he didn't trust was touching him! He lunged forward, trying to get away, but the betas on either side of him grabbed him the second he moved, hoisting him back up. The tension Shiro had been feeling all day exploded into full-blown panic and he thrashed in his classmates arms, desperately trying to get free. The man on his right lost his balance and fell, freeing Shiro's arm so he could swing at the one on his left. The alpha girl charged forward, trying to calm him, but in his heatsick state Shiro took it as an attack and shoved her back with enough force to lift her from the ground. She hit the floor hard and wisely decided to stay out of his reach once she was back on her feet, skirting around him to run for the medic's office for help while he grappled with the betas trying to get him under control. She returned with two more alphas and another beta, and between the six of them they were able to herd Shiro into the heat wing without taking too much damage, though most of them would have bruises.  
"What's going on here? This is a medical facility, not a playground!" The head nurse demanded as Shiro stumbled roughly through the doors with the others blocking his exit.  
"Something's wrong with him," One of the betas gasped out, clutching his ribs where Shiro had punched him. "I think he's heatsick. We were bringing him here when he started acting crazy and attacked us!" As if on cue, one of the med staff approached Shiro to see if she could calm him down. In his delirious state, Shiro struck out at the stranger intruding in his space, hitting her hard enough to knock her unconscious. The group at the door gaped at him in shock. Takashi Shirogane, pride of the Galaxy Garrison, actually knocked out a staff member. Shiro was so delirious with heatsickness that he was operating entirely on instinct. And his instincts were telling him that he wasn't safe. He was in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by unfamiliar people who had already attacked him. None of them were strong enough to stop him. None of them were strong enough to protect him. The rejection of all the available alphas and the unfamiliar surroundings only added to his panic. He was blind with heat and fear and wildly lashed out at anyone who came within arms reach.  
"We have to sedate him before he hurts himself or anyone else!" The nurse said urgently. One of the alphas that brought him in shook his head.  
"We can't get close enough without him attacking. I mean we could all try pinning him down but I don't know if we can hold him long enough without seriously hurting him." He observed. The nurse frowned. Omegas in heat naturally craved an alpha's presence, but Shiro seemed to be reacting most aggressively to all the alphas who came near him. Omegas at their most instinctual desired safety and protection and, to be blunt, a good knot. She glanced at the students surrounding Shiro. A fair handful of alphas there, but Shiro was tall and broad-shouldered, and everyone knew how he excelled in his combat training. Even in his current state Shiro was more than a match for any one of them, and the one who was physically strong enough to hold him was so worried about hurting Shiro that he simply couldn't do it. They were going to need help to take care of him, and she could only think of one person who was up to the task.  


Commander Iverson was a tall and imposing man. With years of military experience and a no-nonsense attitude he was the kind of person whose bad side nobody wanted to be on. Of course, with his harsh expression and rough manner, people didn't exactly make an effort to be on his good side either. This made it all the more strange when the head nurse called him down to the heat wing, desperate for his help. They wanted HIM to come deal with some emotionally unstable student? He almost didn't believe it but the metallic crash from the other end of the line followed by voices yelling frantically was concerning. He could hear the shouting all the way down the hall from the heat wing, and when the doors slid open he was stunned to see his prized student grappling with one of the engineers. Shiro staggered from one stance to the next, keeping his back to the wall, but he was definitely holding his own. With a smartly executed throw the engineer went flying over Shiro's head and landed heavily on one of the other students. Iverson noted, with a hint of pride, that it was a throw he had personally taught Shiro when he'd had the pilot in his unarmed combat course.  
"Commander Iverson, please help!" The nurse cried from her place on the floor where she was attending to another injured student. "He's completely out of his mind with heat. He won't accept any alphas and we can't get close enough to sedate him! I can't have him hurting any more students." A wild growl tore through the room as Shiro grabbed the mated alpha and threw her bodily across the room. Iverson managed to catch her just in time and lowered her gently to the floor. He met Shiro's fevered gaze in a clear challenge and stalked forward, shrugging off his uniform jacket and throwing it to the side. If Shiro wanted a fight that's just what he'd get. Shiro may have been top of his combat class, but Iverson TAUGHT that class and ran rings around every newbie that stepped onto his mats. Shiro's instincts were good, deep stances and blocky shoulders forming a protective cage around his head and torso, and he even managed to get a few hits in. If he weren't so irritated at having to fight a student Iverson would have been proud. The blow to the face surprised him though, and he could feel his temper flare.  
"You're going to wish you hadn't done that." Iverson growled, low and dangerous. Shiro growled right back. A solid kick to the ribs slammed Shiro against the wall, and before he could recover Iverson was in his space with a knee in his middle. Shiro gasped for air and moved to sit up but a sudden backhand threw him off balance and with a hard shove he hit the ground. Iverson wrapped a hand around his throat and pressed him to the floor, but Shiro wasn't done yet. He grabbed Iverson's wrist and planted his feet on the man's shoulders, intending to throw him off, but Iverson was ready for it. When Shiro kicked out Iverson threw his weight backwards and yanked Shiro along with him, throwing him onto his front and blanketing him with his full weight. Shiro growled and thrashed but Iverson was bigger and heavier than he was, and his struggling slowly ceased.  
"Knew you were a tough one but I never imagined you'd be this big a pain in the ass." Iverson muttered once Shiro was still. An irritated growl was all the response he got. "Quiet! You've caused enough trouble for one day." Slowly, Shiro's panic waned, and he was left with a building need. This alpha was strong. This alpha would keep him safe. This alpha was the one he wanted. He slumped in Iverson's hold. Now that Shiro was safe his body could focus on it's own needs, and he felt a huge rush of slick as he ground back against the man on top of him.  
" _Alpha_ -" Shiro whimpered. Iverson stilled when he felt the sudden wet pressing against him and realized, with a twinge of annoyance, that he was actually hard. He glanced around the room, taking stock of the situation. He could leave Shiro here and have him medicated through his heat, meaning he would have to walk past a number of students with a hard-on and a glaring wet spot on his uniform, or he could take Shiro to one of the empty rooms and take care of them both the natural way. The nurse hesitantly approached with a sedative, but once Shiro caught sight of her he snarled and tucked himself further underneath Iverson. So much for that option. He caught the nurse's eye and jerked his head toward the nearest door, and she scrambled to open it while he hauled Shiro up by his collar. The door slammed shut behind them and Iverson threw Shiro onto the bed. In the small space Shiro's omega pheromones were almost overwhelming, especially now that they weren't dampened with adrenaline. Shiro writhed on the sheets as his heat started to build. He smelled like slick and want, and Iverson's nose wrinkled at the strength of it even as his body reacted.  
"Alpha, _please_!" Shiro panted. He fumbled with the closure of his pants until Iverson slapped his hands away, undoing the buttons and yanking them off. The rest of Shiro's clothing followed. Shiro gasped at the touch of cool air on his skin. He was so close to getting what he wanted- no, what he needed. Impatient, he reached back to run fingers over his slick hole, breath hitching as he did. Iverson let him play for a moment while he undressed and folded his uniform. When he returned to the bed Shiro had turned onto his stomach and was mindlessly grinding against the sheets as he teased himself with the tip of a finger. God, he was going to be a mess by the time they were done. Iverson hadn't even touched him and there was slick everywhere. Shiro stilled in surprise when he felt Iverson's hands on his hips, but arched back into the hold and pulled his fingers away.  
"Please. _Please_. Fuck." Shiro whined, trying to grind back against him. Shiro may have been wetter than the rainforest and practically out of his mind but that didn't change the fact that wasn't ready for a knot. Iverson pulled him up by his hips, guiding the pilot's knees underneath him, and when he ran his thick fingers over Shiro's dripping hole he could see the way his whole body shuddered in anticipation. Without warning he slid two fingers inside and Shiro buried his face in the pillow and screamed as he came. The second he stopped shaking Iverson was moving, pumping his fingers into Shiro's body until his walls relaxed enough for him to slip in a third. By then Shiro had recovered enough to start moving, and began fucking himself on Iverson's slick digits. He was on the brink of his second orgasm when Iverson slipped his fingers out and Shiro growled in protest, only to be shoved facefirst back into the sheets. The feeling of Iverson finally finally pressing into him was almost overwhelming, as if he were being filled with molten metal rather than flesh, and his mouth dropped open in a silent moan. Bit by bit, Iverson sank into the wet heat of Shiro's body, thanking the stars that he had the age and experience to keep control of himself, because the way Shiro clenched down on him intermittently was better than anything he could remember feeling. Shiro rolled his hips slowly, trying to take the last bit of Iverson's cock. He was _so_ close! Iverson's hands gripped his hips tightly, thumbs pressed tightly into the dimples of his back and holding him in place, and without warning he was yanked back until Iverson was buried in him to the hilt. The ridge where Iverson's knot would grow slid into him with a slight bump and Shiro came with a yell at the sensation of it. He panted heavily as Iverson started moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace as Shiro's walls relaxed around him. Shiro came once more before Iverson couldn't hold back any longer and pulled Shiro tighter against him, his knot popping past Shiro's rim with almost no resistance. Shiro cried out at the stretch and bucked back against Iverson, trying to take him even deeper as the knot grew just inside him. Iverson ground against him, folding over Shiro's body and burying his face in the crook of his neck to breathe in the heady scent as he came. Shiro whined high in his throat as Iverson filled him with wet heat and nosed against his scent gland, and came with a full-body shudder, collapsing into the messy sheets. He felt better, the worst of the heat edging away after taking a full knot, and he drifted off to sleep with Iverson still buried inside of him. Iverson carefully pulled out as soon as he was able and gently rolled Shiro onto a clean part of the sheets. Shiro was still out cold when he finished dressing so he left quietly, giving instructions to the nurse on his way out.

Shiro woke in the med bay the next morning with a mild sedative, a double dose of suppressants, and an emergency contraceptive running through his system. He had a groggy conversation with the medical staff and was given a brief version of what had happened to him, and though the idea of having sex with a former teacher is a little off-putting, he can't help but be grateful for the Commander's assistance. The soreness in his body, though not unpleasant, was a reminder of how long it had been since he'd last spend a heat with someone, and a part of him can't help but wonder if Iverson would be willing to provide that same assistance in the future. He shook the thought away. This was a fluke. A one-time thing. He'd get by on his own, just like he always had.


	2. Arrangements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i totally forgot that i hadn't posted this and it's just been sitting in my file collecting space dust. my bad y'all. please enjoy

Despite the mishap he'd had during his last cycle, Shiro was plenty capable of taking care of himself during heats. After enrolling at the Garrison he mostly spent them in the heat wing with a dildo mounted to his chair so he could fuck himself while he worked on whatever classwork he'd be missing. It wasn't the most glamorous solution, but it got the job done and kept him from falling behind his classmates. In the four years he'd been at the Garrison it hadn't failed him once, until now.

Shiro slumped in his seat, panting heavily. His essay had been abandoned over an hour ago, he'd jacked off twice and ridden his makeshift mount until his legs felt like jelly, and he still felt like he was burning up. He'd never had a heat so intense, and the suppressants he'd been taking ought to have been sugar pills for all the good they were doing. He reached over to press the call screen for the nurse's desk and asked about upping his suppressants, but he'd already taken a second dose that morning and it wouldn't be safe to take another for several hours.  
"Shiro are you sure you don't have someone who can come help you with this?" The nurse frowned at him in concern. Shiro shook his head. He'd broken up with his last boyfriend just before he'd graduated from highschool, and hadn't dated much since then. Keith was an alpha, but neither of them were comfortable with the idea of spending a heat or rut together. Matt wouldn't be phased, they'd seen each other naked often enough when they were roommates, but Matt was an omega and the only thing they'd be likely to accomplish together is trigger his heat early. "You know, it's not exactly a conventional solution, but I could try calling Commander Iverson. He is an alpha after all." The nurse suggested. Shiro laughed breathlessly.  
"Commander Iverson has more important things to do than deal with me. I'll be fine."  
"I'm sure the health of his top student is plenty important to the Commander, but if you're sure..."  
"I'm fine." Shiro stressed. They stared each other down, but eventually she relented.  
"Alright, but if you change your mind I'm just a call away." She didn't look particularly convinced that he was alright, but Shiro appreciated the subject being dropped. The last thing he needed to worry about was fucking a teacher. Heats were bad enough without the addition of a shitty porn trope. He yanked the unhelpful dildo from the chair and replaced it with a larger one, determined to handle this heat on his own. He could do this.

Almost an hour later Shiro was covered in sweat and slick and no better off than he was when he'd started. The suppressants weren't working, his legs ached from exertion, and he was feeling hotter by the minute. Something needed to change. He reached for the call button, and if he didn't know better he'd say the nurse looked just a tad smug when she answered.  
"Everything alright, Shiro?"  
"'s not working." He groaned. "Nothing's working. Need...something." He buried his face in his arms.  
"Shall I call Commander Iverson for you?" As much as Shiro wanted to say no, he knew he was getting worse by the hour, and he really didn't want to end up back in the med bay.  
"Do it." He said finally. "The sooner this is over the better."

Commander Iverson stalked down to the heat wing in a mix of concern and annoyance. The head nurse had demanded that he come down and see one of the patients. He was a flight instructor, not a doctor! What the hell was he supposed to do, fuck his students until they could focus on their flight plan? He stepped into the heat wing and was met by the head nurse, who thanked him for coming.  
"Normally I wouldn't bother you, but after what happened last time I don't dare send anyone else in there." She told him, causing him to frown. "It's Shiro." She explained as she led him through the hall. "He's right on time in terms of his cycle but he's not responding to the suppressants we've given him. I've been monitoring his temperature and hydration levels and if he continues like this much longer he'll work himself into heatsickness again." She stopped at a door halfway down, and when she opened it Iverson could almost taste the pheromones in the air. Shiro was having a rough heat, to put it mildly. Iverson sighed. He was either going to have to knot him or carry him to the main med bay, and while he wasn't keen on having marathon sex with a former student the idea of dragging him to the med bay just to be strapped down and sedated for the rest of his heat left a bad taste in his mouth.  
"I'll take care of him. Keep me updated on his condition when I leave." He instructed before he pulled the door shut behind him. Almost two hours later he left, still smelling faintly of slick and Shiro, despite having showered. He'd seen his fair share of omegas in heat but Shiro was a whole new level of intense. Hopefully they'd put the poor guy on stronger suppressants. Less than 48 hours later though, he was back in the heat wing, knot-deep in Shiro and covered in slick. No matter what combination of suppressants they tried, Shiro seemed to reject them almost as fast they could administer them, and he was constantly on the edge of heat sickness. The only thing that seemed to help was being held down and knotted. Fortunately, that was something that Iverson could help with. With Shiro's agreement and the med team's approval, the next time Shiro's heat came he found himself outside of Iverson's private quarters rather than an empty room in the heat wing. The commander's quarters were tidy and sparsely furnished, much like his office, but the space felt lived in. Most importantly, Shiro felt secure. The bed was soft, and there was a bathroom and kitchenette off to one side so he wouldn't need to leave until his heat broke. Shiro learned three things during his first heat in Iversons quarters. First, the bed was softer than it looked, which he was very thankful for given that he would be spending a lot of time with his face in it. Second, Commander Iverson was a damn good cook. He woke to fresh breakfast each morning of his heat and there was a constant supply of good food whenever the heat let up. Last, he learned that he was being promoted to Lieutenant and given a Junior Instructor position as part of his training, overseen by Commander Iverson himself. Between the promotion and their arrangement, he was going to be spending a lot of one-on-one time with the Commander. Shiro was almost looking forward to it.


	3. Chapter 3

Some months after his promotion, Shiro had to admit that he was shaping up to be a more than adequate teacher. He had a small group to start this semester; a few rookie pilots who needed some extra guidance, and some particularly gifted students who could use a little fine tuning, along with a ragtag team that seemed to be rather haphazardly thrown together. He'd looked over their files with Commander Iverson, and individually they were at the top of their courses, but together they were a mess. Matt's younger sister, who had started going by Pidge for reasons he wasn't sure he wanted to know, had scored high enough on her entrance exams to advance into third-year classwork and been assigned to a team with Hunk, a gifted but anxious engineer, and Lance, a cargo pilot with hopes of advancing to fighter class who showed promise when he wasn't busy showing off and crashing. Separately they were fine, but the moment they had to work as a team they fell apart. According to Matt, Pidge had never been particularly good with other people if they couldn't operate on her academic level, and she often became obstinate in response to Lance's directions. Lance was another problem entirely. He could keep the simulator steady but he was competitive and prone to what he called "creative action" whenever faced with a challenge. As often as Pidge ignored his directions he would reject her advice in favor of making new flight patterns as he went, and poor Hunk usually suffered the worst of the consequences. Anxious and prone to motion sickness, Hunk spent a lot of time with his head in the trashcan thanks to Lance's "creative actions", leaving him unable to perform his duties as engineer. Shiro sighed as the datapad in his hand announced yet another mission failure, accompanied by the sound of retching and arguing from inside the simulator.  
"Alright you three, what happened this time?" He asked as soon as the doors slid open. Pidge and Lance simultaneously launched into explanations of why the other person was to blame for one reason or another while Hunk chimed in between heaves. "Enough!" He held up a hand to cut them off, the three cadets glaring daggers at each other. "The three of you are some of the best at what you do. These simulator courses should be nothing for you! You're all old enough that you should be able to work together, whether you like it or not." He made a point to make eye contact with each of them. "Everyone take ten and we'll try it again." The three filed out of the simulator in ashamed silence.  
"Having a fun with the peanut gallery?" Iverson asked as Shiro stepped back into the observation lounge, getting an eye-roll in response.  
"I'd give my left arm if these three could get it together for just one day. I haven't seen a social wreck like this since keith picked a fight with the homecoming queen in high school." Shiro could've sworn he heard Iverson chuckle at that. It may have sounded amusing but just remembering the ensuing chaos and week of detentions sent a wash of embarassment over Shiro. His tablet beeped as his timer went off and he sighed heavily. "Alright, back into the fire we go."  
Pidge, Lance, and Hunk filed silently into the simulator and buckled into their respective seats. Footsteps clacked on the floor behind them and the trio looked at Shiro in surprise, not expecting him to follow them in.  
"Shiro? Shouldn't you be, y'know, outside? Monitoring and all that?" Lance asked.  
"There are some things that can't be studied through the monitor program. I'm going to join you on this run and we'll see if we can't get this thing to work." The three cadets shared a confused look, but shrugged and went about starting the simulation. The simulator shuddered as they went through the liftoff portion.  
"Is it supposed to do that?" Hunk asked nervously. Pidge grinned.  
"Maybe it's scared of Lance's crappy flying." She teased. Lance groaned from the pilot seat.  
They made it through the first half of the simulation with ease, glancing at Shiro every now and then to gauge his reaction as they made decisions. Lance seemed torn between wanting to show off his flying skills and wanting to impress Shiro, and made a series of small mistakes. Nothing major, but enough that the simulator wobbled accompanied by an eerie metallic groaning. Everyone froze as the sound faded and the machine stabilized again. Shiro reached for his tablet to shut down the simulation.  
"I think we should call it quits for today-"  
"What?! No no no! We can do this!" Lance protested, thinking they had failed yet again. He grabbed the controls again and sent the simulation flying forward in a clean arch over a towering rock formation and set a course for the assigned end point. It was good flying, but the motion knocked something loose in the machine and the simulator lurched. Shiro slammed his hand on the emergency exit panel.  
"Alright, everybody out!" He ordered. The simulator swayed uneasily as Pidge and Hunk climbed from their seats and made their way out.  
"Lance! Come on!" Hunk yelled. Shiro glanced at the front of the simulator where Lance was stone still in the pilots chair. The machine tilted with a sickening crunch, making Shiro stumble as he approached and he slammed heavily into the control panel.  
"Lance!" The cadet was frozen in place, feeling the simulator sway and buckle beneath him. Terror and guilt claimed his face rather than the easy grin he usually wore and he turned to Shiro with wide eyes.  
"I'm sorry," He croaked. "This is all my fault." He flinched when Shiro put a firm hand on his shoulder.  
"It's no one's fault, Lance. But we have to get out of here." A good shake had Lance up and moving, with Shiro not far behind. The shriek of metal grinding against metal split the air as one of the simulator's supports buckled, sending both Lance and Shiro to the floor. Shiro needed to get Lance out. Just ahead, the doors to the simulator were locked open by the emergency clamps. Hunk stood nearby frantically looking for Lance. Thinking quickly, Shiro called up to Hunk, grabbed lance by the back of his flight suit and threw him with all his strength. Luckily Hunk was as strong as he was smart and easily snatched Lance, pulling him to safety. Shiro moved back to get a running leap for the exit. Just as he started to run the other support gave out and the simulator collapsed onto the buckled beam, piercing the metal of the hull. Shiro stumbled, and before he could recover the entire machine crashed to the ground, throwing him against the control panel.  
Shiro was falling. A dull thud, a flash of agony, and then nothing.  
Over the next few days Shiro drifted in and out of consciousness, never fully waking. He caught glimpses of his surroundings; Keith at his bedside, then Matt, a cluster of people at the foot of the bed, the sound of someone crying, a familiar scent, all interspersed with stretches of darkness. Finally, he woke. Gentle fingers carded through his hair, and a familiar lullaby filled the space around him. He gathered the strength to open his eyes and was unsurprised to see his mother at his side. She wore a calm expression, but he could tell she had been crying. Her breath hitched when he turned his head just enough to lean into her touch and gave her a tiny smile.  
"Hey, Mom." That was all it took to start her crying again, burying her face in his chest.  
"Oh, Takashi! How can you scare your mother like that? I thought you were gone!" She sobbed. Once she had cried herself out the doctors were called. They explained what had happened in the simulator and ran through most of his injuries. Numerous bruises and lacerations, a few burns and fractures from landing on the control panel, including a deep gash across his face and a harsh electrical burn near his hairline. He reached to feel his face and frowned when his arm wouldn't move.  
"There's one more thing, Mr. Shirogane." The doctor warned. His tone was mild but the look on his face told Shiro it was bad. "You sustained an irreparable injury during the accident-" He started. Shiro's mother laid a comforting hand on his chest.  
"They said you were trapped between the front of the ship and a support beam. You were almost crushed!" She explained. The doctor looked guiltily at them before glancing back to his clipboard.  
"Luckily you weren't, however... we weren't able to save your arm."  
The words crashed down on Shiro like a stack of bricks. His arm? He lost an arm?! He couldn't pilot with only one arm! He tried moving his arm again and watched in horror as the sheets slipped away and he could see a bandaged stump where his elbow should have been. Panic like he'd never know flooded through his body, his pulse pounding in his ears. He had to get away.  
"-ster Shirogane! Calm down!" A voice filtered through. His mother's gentle hands cupped his face, quietly saying his name over and over, but it wasn't enough to quell the need to escape. He thrashed weakly, but quickly exhausted his limited energy and succumbed to sleep once again.  
The first few days he was awake were miserable. Keith and Matt stayed with him in shifts, and his mother was a constant presence, but the pity in their eyes and the enormity of his missing limb were like an inescapable torture. The nights were worse. Every time he slept he was haunted by flashes of the accident. He saw visions of himself, whole, taunting him with the knowledge that he'd never fly again. He dreamt of falling. He dreamt of torture, his severed arm being waved in front of his face by an unknown assailant while voices cried for help around him. More often than not, he woke up screaming. Keith stayed the night as often as he could, and on those nights sleep came easier. Lance and his team came by once, the pilot visibly wracked with guilt over Shiro's condition. Shiro didn't blame him but there was little he could do to console him. A week into his recovery a hard knock sounded at the door, and Shiro was surprised to see Commander Iverson. He was glad for the Commander's company. Iverson didn't coddle him, and there was no trace of pity or guilt in his gaze. Shiro appreciated that. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn't, and sometimes Iverson was content to sit and grade assignments while Shiro dozed. Once, Shiro woke to find Iverson's jacket draped over him like a blanket, and realized for the first time since the accident he'd gotten a full night of sleep, undisturbed by nightmares. He expressed his thanks the next morning, feeling better than he had since he first woke, but that night the nightmares returned as vicious as ever. On the days Commander Iverson visited, Shiro felt more at ease. He didn't know what it was, but something about him made Shiro feel safe. The nightmares plagued him for several more days until Iverson returned with a clean but worn pillow in his hands. The nurse tucked it gently under Shiro's head and he instantly felt more grounded. The nightmares left him again, and he made great strides in his recovery. Finally, after almost a month in the hospital, Shiro was cleared to go home.


End file.
